


(Un)conditional

by thelocalmaniac



Series: Lucio Is Smitten [4]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Minor Angst, Nonbinary Apprentice (The Arcana), Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Other, Sex, They/Them/Theirs Pronouns, cursing, lucio is angry and soft and confused, sometimes all at once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 03:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelocalmaniac/pseuds/thelocalmaniac
Summary: They thought of how he constantly sought affection and praise. It is a reasonable assumption that that’s something that’s been lacking from key figures in his life: love that didn’t come at a price. Lucio views affection and praise as ‘love’, always eager for kind words and physical touch.But real love, unconditional love? Maybe he’s never experienced it.Maybe he can’t believe in it.
Relationships: Apprentice & Lucio (The Arcana), Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana)
Series: Lucio Is Smitten [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1520888
Kudos: 68





	(Un)conditional

**Author's Note:**

> The Arcana and its characters are not mine.  
Elodie, my fan apprentice, and their overall interpretation is the only thing that belongs to me.  
As usual, you do not need to have read any of the other Lucio/Apprentice stories I have posted to understand this one. They all work as stand alones.

“Look, I’m not going to change in a day--” 

“I’m not _asking_ you to--” 

“--and I think it’s entirely unfair that you expect me to--” 

“I _don’t_\--” 

“--and so what if I like killing? Being greedy? Are you going to fucking _leave_ every time I don’t obey?” 

Elodie didn’t deign to respond that time, opting to glare at him instead. The Count and the magician stood on opposite sides of the room, chests heaving, voices hoarse from shouting. Lucio’s face was pale and sweaty, forehead pinched, features sharper than usual. Elodie was flushed with anger, visibly trembling. They were at an impasse. 

Lucio had been practically intolerable since getting his body back—almost as if he had only been playing “nice” to get something from Elodie, like he hadn’t changed at _all_. Was Elodie just an unwilling conspirator in lying to Morga, to Nadia, to the people of Vesuvia? Had every word Lucio had said before they fought the Devil and won been a lie? Honestly, they didn’t even know what they would do if that was true, if he had played them like a fiddle. 

Lucio realized they weren’t going to speak and, instead, squirmed uncomfortably under their gaze. They weren’t speechless often and he hated when they were speechless because they were mad. It meant he had really stepped in shit. He hated it when they couldn’t speak. Unless it was because he had done something good, when they would give him that “I-am-so-in-love-with-you-I-can't-even-speak" look that honestly knocked the air out of his lungs. He _adored_ that look. It usually promised bruising, messy sex, and a lot of snuggles and head pets after. 

But also? Nobody else had ever _loved_ him before, of that he was quite certain. When they had that look on their face—Arcana help him, there was no price too high to keep the little witch of a magician in his life. And still-- “Elodie, you were never going to _fix_ me. Okay? Like, that was a fucking given. I have lied, I have stolen, I have seduced, I have murdered. I practically sold my soul to the Devil. So, what? You thought that a few stolen kisses and a few favors and I would be a changed man?” He watched them flinch, as if that had been exactly what they had thought, and he huffed. Of course. It would have all been too good to be true otherwise. Even Elodie only loved _one_ part of him. “You’re so naïve.” 

Reeling, Elodie tried to get a hold of this conversation, because things were spiraling out of control and they had a feeling Lucio was going to shut down and run at any moment. “We--we told your mother that you were _changing_, Lucio. If you don’t put at least some effort into it, she’s going to come _back_, and she is going to _kill _you.” Their voice cracked. 

Lucio sneered. “What, are you only going to protect me if I’m being a good little count? Is that it? Your so-called_ love_ is conditional after all?” 

The apprentice stopped. Then stared. Then straightened their back. 

Oh. So that was it. 

The Count’s breathing was ragged as he stared them down, bristling, every nerve rubbed raw. He frowned when his lover took one step forward, then another, slowly, as if he was a scared animal who might bolt or bite at any moment. Though, noticing his position, chest puffed to make himself look bigger, he supposed that was fair. He was doing his best to appear intimidating. 

“Hey, you know I’m not going anywhere, right? You’re not scaring me off. I’m angry, yes, but I don’t love you any less?” Lucio’s breath caught, and they took another step toward him, encouraged that they had been allowed to get this close. Elodie’s expression was open—Lucio always appreciated their honesty, and they would give him that. “That my love _isn’t _conditional?” 

They should have expected an outburst like this at some point. Lucio was exceptionally good at pushing people away. His own mother spoke repeatedly of how saving her son was a bad thing, going as far as to say she should have let him die rather than save him again. While he was a _child_. Morga was always ready to kill him, convinced he is the way he is because she loved him too much. It contextualized why Lucio was...well, why he was _like _that. 

Elodie considered the day when they went to find Lucio in the Arcana Realm. They had found him buried in the snow, crying, convinced no one was coming to save him. They thought of how he constantly sought affection and praise. It is a reasonable assumption that that’s something that’s been lacking from key figures in his life: love that didn’t come at a price. Lucio views affection and praise as ‘love’, always eager for kind words and physical touch. 

But real love, unconditional love? Maybe he’s never experienced it. 

Maybe he can’t believe in it. 

Lucio didn’t even realize he was shaking until Elodie had taken one of his hands, then the other, into their own, turning them over to rub their thumbs over his palms, soothingly, until he stilled. He stared at them, wide eyed, uncomprehending. “I don’t believe you,” he said in a rush. “I’m not a good person, Elodie.” 

They shrugged. “I don’t think anyone is a good person. We can do good things, but that doesn’t mean shit about our intent. That doesn’t matter to me. It _never_ mattered.” 

“You’re a good person.” 

“Only to the people who matter to me.” Though they still felt hollow from their earlier shouting, entirely drained, they smiled at him anyway. “And you’re one of those people. So, I’m putting our fight aside to sort this out first.” They squeezed his hands. “It’s usually easier to fight with people you care about because you trust them to come back after. But you don’t trust me to, do you? You think that if you push me just far enough over the line I’m going to leave.” 

With this, they held his gaze until he looked away. He didn’t want to answer that question. 

Seeing this, Elodie wilted. Words were never going to be enough for Lucio. They would need to do better than this. He always understood actions more, trusted in them more._ ‘People say a lot of pretty things they don’t mean’, _he told her once. '_I do, anyway.'_

Some days Lucio would trust that Elodie, at least, believed the things they said. Today he needed another push. “Is it alright if I use magic? It’s just a simple spell. I just want to share something with you.” His eyes turned back to them, confused. They would need to explain. “Memories. Feelings. Sort of both? I want to show you. And maybe, after, if you’re comfortable, you can show me?” 

He hesitated. His eyes searched their own, almost as if waiting for a trick. Then Count Lucio exhaled. “I don’t like this,” he informed them before nodding his consent. 

Elodie inclined their head, appreciating his trust, before calling upon their magic, letting it flow through their fingers. It trickled into Lucio’s hands, spread up his arms, soft and warm and familiar. He twitched at the feeling, then relaxed. Lucio, at least, knew that Elodie would never hurt him. 

The magician closed their eyes for a beat, plucking thoughts and fragments from their mind to show him. The stark terror in their veins when the Devil stole him away. The relief, the rightness of finding him, of holding him again. The fondness and trust when they first had sex after defeating the Devil. The tenderness in their heart when they told him they loved him, how much they wanted him to believe them. How much they had trusted him to make the right decision after they took his side against Morga, how centered they felt when they held his hands, how proud they were when he saved the realms with them. _Love, love, love._ Then they showed him some memories, ones he had not been present for. Defending his honor with Countess Nadia when she hadn’t believed he could change, begging her to let him stay in Vesuvia. Their one-track mind when they told Asra they were going back to rescue Lucio. Their absolute willingness to sacrifice their magic to get Lucio his body back, not balking for an instance before Lucio had found a better deal for them, astonished that they had even _considered_ it. Elodie watching his sleeping form with unreserved affection, smiling, _love _spreading through them with each twist, mumble, and utterance from the Count. Gushing to Portia about him when he wasn’t there. Instance upon instance, memory upon memory, of Elodie being happy because of him, the man who had brought the Plague to their city, the man who had gotten them _killed_. 

Lucio was silent the entire time, but once Elodie’s emotions and thoughts had waned, leaving space through their bond for him to share anything he felt comfortable exposing, he offered a few memories of his own. Never being held or hugged as a child. Being denied his inheritance of his people, his final straw. His days as a mercenary, fucking on a whim, never forming any kind of attachment, nothing permanent, nothing lasting. Marrying Nadia and her coldness toward him. His shy, hopeful feelings about them, how excited he was to see them, to kiss them, to fuck them, to spend time with them in any sense of the word. 

Many of the things he showed them were his own fault, but the more of his childhood they saw, how lonely he was, how lost, the more they understood. Elodie opened their eyes, nodded, and then squeezed his hands to ground him before sending their love through the bond, certain and pure. They watched with amusement as his cheeks colored. 

Keeping the bond open, the magician spoke for the first time in what seemed like many minutes, a grin slowly spreading across their face. “Lucio, I really like you, and I think you really like me, too.” 

Throat closing as he remembered the things he saw, the things he could not understand but now had no choice but to believe, Lucio whispered, “I do.” 

“Cool, cool. I’m glad. Really, _really_ glad.” They moved closer, gently severed the bond, and pressed their forehead to his cheek. He ducked down so their foreheads touched instead. “Trust that I’m not leaving, then. That whatever we fight about, you won’t matter less. Lucio, I don’t want to fix you, and I don’t want you to change. You’re a kind person, you just forgot that you could be. Sometimes it’s frustrating, knowing there’s so much potential in you to change the world, but I know that unlearning isn’t fast, and it isn’t easy. I’ll be here no matter what pace you end up doing it, if you do at all.” Lucio’s breath escaped him in a whoosh, surprised. “I want what’s best for you, but I won’t always be right about what that looks like. So you’ll need to be patient with me while I’m figuring things out. And I’ll be more patient with you, too.” 

The two stood like that for a moment longer, breathing becoming synchronized. After a beat Lucio laughed, breathlessly, almost sounding on the brink of tears. “Think we’ll ever get our shit together?” he asked. 

“No.” Came the deadpan reply. Lucio looked shocked, then he laughed loudly, tugging Elodie closer, feeling them giggling against his chest. 

“I hate you,” he said before kissing them. They pressed closer, curling a hand around the back of his neck, and their kisses grew more heated. Soon Elodie was in his arms and his hands were lifting them by their thighs, and he carried them into their bedroom. There were things they could discuss later, but for now he just wanted to relish in getting something he wanted without having it denied, without having a price to pay for it. Dizzy with freedom and taking a risk that hadn’t resulted in immediate rejection and punishment, Lucio kissed Elodie harder, delighted when they responded in kind. 

It wasn’t perfect, and it was fragile, but maybe this was what he had been looking for. Not land, not riches, but someone who wanted him despite all the reasons they shouldn’t. 

Lucio dropped them onto the bed unceremoniously and moved to remove their trousers, kissing their thighs and leaving marks. Their legs fell apart instinctively, hopefully, making soft sighs and noises in response to his ministrations. He couldn’t understand why they would let the man who murdered them_ fuck_ them, but he had seen enough of their mind to know it wasn’t something that could be helped. He had been forgiven, somehow. The Count moved up their body, cold hands shifting under Elodie’s shirt, brushing over their skin, and they shivered. By the time he had moved to remove it from their body, they had somehow gotten his garments unbuttoned and was trying to pull them off. Laughing, he helped them with his attire when they couldn’t remove it fast enough. Then they were kissing him again, ravenously, and he was filled with an unbridled joy. 

Maybe it was never going to be perfect. That was okay, too. Maybe it was enough to be wanted. 

Elodie did something with their tongue that made him groan loudly and press closer, vexed that no matter how near he was it still was not _near_ enough, not enough to swallow them both whole. Once they were both nude, the apprentice broke away to kiss down his neck and chest. They nipped around his hipbones and his entire body shuddered. Then they were sucking his cock with a mouth as hot as sunlight and Lucio almost came then and there. Elodie knew that he loved immediate gratification. 

“Know any spells to make me hard again if I come in your mouth?” he asked thickly, genuinely curious as much as he was hopeful. 

The magician giggled and then choked, withdrawing from his dick so they could cough, eyes watering. “Fuck, that was the worst—Please never make me laugh when I’m sucking you off again. I’m _crying_.” They gestured emphatically to their streaming eyes, and he smirked, reaching over to wipe them away. 

“Sorry, sorry--” He wasn’t. “But do you? If so, please suck me off before any round of fucking forever.” 

Rolling their eyes, they flopped down on the bed, spreading their legs; they smiled when Lucio’s gaze snapped down. They did look rather tempting, hot and flushed, arousal weeping on the sheets. “I don’t know a spell for that, unfortunately. Otherwise I’d never let you out of the bedroom.” Their grin was nearly feral, and Lucio made a small, low moan in the back of his throat before leaning over them, breathing heated against their core, and began to devour them. Elodie made a strangled sound and grabbed the mattress to hold themselves still. “_Fuck_, I wish I knew though, don’t _stop_\--” 

Lucio lapped and sucked and nibbled while Elodie spasmed, grinding against him, unhinged in their want. They whispered his name reverently, like a prayer, and then the Count couldn’t wait anymore. He moved up to kiss them as he slipped inside, sheathing himself fully, and Elodie shuddered, wrapping their arms around his neck. Lucio made a strained noise when he bottomed out and he held position for a moment, letting Elodie adjust, watching their mouth fall open, head falling to the side on the pillow. Neither moved for a moment, both breathing, and then he lowered his mouth to their pulse, which fluttered wildly, and then began to move, slowly, and then faster. He curled an arm around their waist, pulling them tight against his hips. 

They were making soft, inarticulate sounds as he fucked them leisurely. “Hm, faster,” they murmured, and he kissed them roughly, biting their lower lip hard enough to bleed as he raked his hands down their back, gouging marks into their skin. 

He stopped sucking on their neck when they glowered at him. “Fuck you, Lucio,” they gasped when they resurfaced, eyes nearly black with lust. 

“Maybe later,” Lucio gasped back, and Elodie laughed choked off as he began to move faster, far sloppier now. Pleasure crested over Elodie every time their hips collided, and they threw back their head, quivering under his touch. Sweat gleamed on their muscles and in the hollow of their throat, and he thought about how radiant they looked, admired how much power they contained in their little frame. With a stroke of genius Elodie called magic to their hands, letting them heat up—Lucio hated the cold, so they knew they couldn’t do that—and pressed their hands against his chest, searing heat. He inhaled sharply, muscles tensing. 

The magician sighed and whimpered and moaned beneath him, and every sound they made sent tingles of arousal shooting through his veins like forks of lightning. He shifted, tilting his hips and wrapping his legs tight around their waist, allowing the wide head of his cock hit to hit that one spot inside them that magnified every sensation a thousand times. Elodie gasped his name, their head falling back as an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure washed over their body, walls closing on him as they overflowed. Seconds later, Lucio followed, and he felt weightless; his eyes were glassy and unfocused. 

With a grunt, he slipped and fell onto the individual beneath him, who wheezed when his elbow caught their gut. “I can’t believe you were ever a mercenary with stamina like that,” they teased, rolling him off them. Lucio pouted, but not for long; Elodie moved closer after he had been removed and pressed a long, languid kiss to his lips. His arm tightened almost reflexively around their waist, pulling them closer. They pulled him in turn, slowly starting to smile against his mouth. 

They laid there for a while and it was almost peaceful. Lucio could almost believe that they had never been fighting, that Elodie might be here to stay. He looked over them but now the hunger was gone, replaced by an unhurried fondness. It took some time, but eventually the magician realized that they were being watched; their eyes opened slowly to look at him. They felt sticky and sore, and although the feeling was underwhelming, they were too tired to bother cleaning up. 

“You act like you’re never going to see me again,” Elodie commented lightly. 

Humming, the Count leaned in to kiss their nose, smiling when it crinkled up. “Were any of the memories you showed me earlier altered?” 

“What?” Elodie paused, processing his sentence, before catching up with what he had been talking about. “Oh._ Oh_. No, they can’t. Not in that way. Not unless somebody else with magic had altered mine, first, that is. They were all real.” They hadn’t hidden anything from him. It had all been honest. 

On some level, he trusted that Elodie wouldn’t have lied. But for reasons unknown to him, Lucio couldn’t understand why Elodie would have chosen him. But he nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay. Why me?” 

That was the closest Elodie had ever heard Lucio come to having self-doubt, and they hesitated, trying to find the language to explain themselves. “I guess...it couldn’t have been anyone else. It wouldn’t have made sense. It had to have been you.” This was enough for Lucio, who grinned and embraced the apprentice tightly, looping his arms and legs around them. “Gods, I can barely breathe—What is it with you and cuddling octopus-style? You were absolutely a sea creature in another life.” 

“I would never be something so slimy.” 

“Lucio, you like eating fancy eels. Don’t bullshit me. Your affinity to sea creatures_ has_ to say something about you.” 

Rolling his eyes, he pressed a mindless kiss to Elodie’s temple, earning a small smile from the magician. “You’re a fucking idiot. Why would I want to eat something I used to be?” 

“You tell me, Count Cannibal.” 

Lucio cackled madly. Elodie looked startled, then snickered, tucking themselves into his chest. “I hate you.” 

“You don’t.” 

“I...don’t,” he conceded. This being vulnerable thing was not going to be easy, but he still trusted the apprentice to take it in stride. They always did. If they could forgive him for everything else, they could forgive him for this. 

Exhausted, they fell began to drift to sleep against him, and he looked down at them thoughtfully. _Yes. They can forgive me for this._


End file.
